


Fireflight

by ilarual (Ilarual)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (not really a novelization but that's the closest I can come), Action/Adventure, Alternate Canon, F/M, Gen, Novelization, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilarual/pseuds/ilarual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avatar: Unabridged. This series strives to preserve the spirit and (generally) the plot of each episode and AtLA as a whole, while still delving deeper into the world, the characters, and the thematic underpinnings of the narrative itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Katara

**Author's Note:**

> This work is hard to describe. I can't really call it a novelization, because it's not. It's almost a novelization, but it's also something of an AU or a canon retelling. I have two goals in writing this. The first is to fill in the blank spaces and tidy up some loose ends that the original series left here and there. Thus far, I think I've been successful in this. 
> 
> The second is to tell the story as it might have been had it been designed for teens or adults. AtLA is a children's series, we know this. But at the same time, it's also somewhat not, and the audience that I have generally seen to be the most engaged, enthusiastic, and enduring are those who were in college during the series' original run. This story is for us, for the people in their twenties and thirties and beyond. It's AtLA, translated ever so slightly for an older audience while hopefully still preserving the essence of what makes the series great.
> 
> Whether I succeed in this regard is entirely up to you.

* * *

~*Book 1: Wind & Water*~

Prologue: Katara

* * *

Peace is a foreign concept. Even I can admit that. One might think that here, in the fey twilight at the bottom of the world, things would be different. But we are living in a martial state even at the South Pole. The world is out of balance and a place that should have been a safe haven from all the busyness and sweaty commerce of the warmer parts of the world has been thrown into the same chaos as the rest of them. I don't know what started this war. I don't know what made the Firelord of old turn his back on the other kingdoms and set out to destroy us instead. I don't think I want to know. And sometimes I think that if only I did, I could find a way to stop it.

I doubt there is anyone alive who remembers a time before the great war with the Fire Nation, who can look back into the distant past and see fond memories of a time when they were happy and peaceful and unafraid. If there is, that person must be the luckiest man alive. At least they have a store of days untainted by horror. For most everyone, all we've ever known since childhood is the fear and instability of wartimes. I like to think it's better here, in the Southern Water Tribe. We do not face daily or even weekly raids by the Fire Nation. The threat is still there, but our society has already been ravaged to the point that the Fire Nation has no further use for us. And so I have to believe that now, at least, we have it a little easier. But times like these do not create optimists or lend themselves to a renewal of hope.

Maybe that is what makes me such a strange bird. My brother is pragmatic, almost utilitarian, in his outlook and his undertakings. The whole tribe is, really. Admittedly, that is in our nature. It has to be, given that we make our home in a place where the sun hardly shines for half the year. I never could be like that, though. Gran-Gran sometimes says I was born with stars in my eyes and it's an apt description. Maybe it's because I was gifted with water-bending, the last and only member of our tribe to be so blessed, or maybe it's because I believe just a little too hard in the stories the elders tell.

Either way, I am the rare optimist. Even on the days when the black snow falls and new devastation rains down on us at the hands of the Fire Nation, I am incapable of relinquishing that little spark of hope that I carry with me.

I truly believe that I will live to see the end of this war. I have to. I'm not sure if it's for the world's sake or for my own selfish reasons. Probably the latter, if I am honest. I'm suffocating here, trapped under a hundred thousand warnings to keep my talents hidden, and barely able to use them as it is. If the Fire Nation discovered what I can do, they would surely come and take me away, just as they took all the other water-benders. That is why I am such a poor excuse for a bender; there is no one to teach me and never a safe time to practice.

In another life, in another time, when there was no war, I know I could have been a great bender. I'm sure I would have had the power to stop the Fire Navy fleet in its tracks. I'm _**sure**_ of it _._ And isn't that the irony of it? Because of the war, I cannot learn bending. Because I cannot learn bending, I cannot do anything to help put an end to the war. It's a vicious cycle, and I do not know how to break out of it. So instead, I hope _._

I hope that the Southern tribe's little fleet will help turn the tide in our favor. I hope that the Firelord will have a sudden change of heart and somehow see what it is that he is doing to us all. But most of all... I put my hope in the Avatar.

This is the point at which people begin to find me foolish. The Avatar... the living channel between the mortal and spirit realms, the only being able to master all four elements, the impartial peacekeeper meant to maintain balance in the world... They say he is gone. He vanished before the war had even started. The last known incarnation of the Avatar was an air-bender, they remind me. Even if he survived whatever Fire Nation horrors brought about the disappearance of his people, he is surely dead by now, they say. And even if he isn't, what chance could a man over a hundred years old, physically frail no matter what his bending prowess, have against the might of the Firelord?

But I still believe in him. Wherever he is, the Avatar cannot have abandoned us. Perhaps he is playing a long game, honing his bending skill to unimaginable levels before confronting the Firelord. Perhaps they are right, and he is dead. But if that is the case, he has been reborn. Far to the north, in our sister tribe, there might even now be a new Avatar preparing to make his presence known and save us all. I believe this, because I have to.

I believe, and I wait, and I pray for a change in the winds.


	2. When Fate Comes Knocking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advisory regarding ages:
> 
> As later chapters of this work will be delving into darker* or more mature material than was shown on-screen (although some of what I'll be dealing with was implied, albeit not explicitly, by the series), I have made the executive decision to tweak the ages of our central cast. Namely, the ages of the teenagers have been bumped up by two years, making Aang and Toph 14, Katara 15 (soon to be 16), Sokka 17, Zuko 18, etc. Just an advisory, seeing as people have been a tad confused by this in the past.
> 
>  
> 
> *I hesitate to use the word "dark" in conjunction with this work, both because I hope to preserve the same inner light the original series had and because I generally disagree with our society's tendency to conflate darkness/grittiness with quality. However, dark is the only word for the direction I will be taking certain plot points (particularly in the latter half of the series).

* * *

 

~*Book 1: Wind & Water*~

Chapter 1: When Fate Comes Knocking

* * *

Destiny often finds us at the most unlikely of times. In the fairytales we tell ourselves, we are always prepared to look Fate in the eye and welcome her with grace when she sees fit to knock on our door. The truth, however, is that destiny is rarely on time and Fate is an elusive guest. Reality is messier than we might like, and we are too caught up in the daily business of getting on with our lives to notice when those defining moments come around until after they've passed and we're caught up in the current of Inevitability. For two young members of the Southern Water Tribe, destiny began with an arbitrary decision facilitated by necessity.

At the south pole, land-based foodstuffs were difficult to acquire. In the depths of winter, the great herds of moose-caribou all migrated far away from the string of little villages along the coast that made up the Tribe. The preferred option for food in the winter, therefore, became fish. Already the principle food-group for the Water Tribe, the people came to rely almost exclusively on the fruits of the sea during the colder months of the year.

Navigating the sea-ice, however, was a tricky enough proposition in high summer. Doing so in the Tribe's little canoes during the winter was nearly impossible and only the extremely capable and courageous tried it without the aid of a waterbender. Most of the Tribe's water-benders had been captured in Fire Nation raids years before, leaving only one person at the south pole who still had the skill. It was this girl, a teenager named Katara, who had set out with her brother to fish on that fateful early winter afternoon.

Katara and Sokka were the children of Hakoda, the brave and currently absent chief of the tribe. The siblings were very similar in appearance, both slender but sturdy and both possessing the dark hair and skin typical of their people. Where Sokka had soft grey-blue eyes, however, his younger sister had inherited their father's striking ocean-blue eyes that stood out in vivid contrast to her dark complexion. Sokka wore a bone choker and his hair, trimmed short at the sides as was customary for boys and young men of their tribe, was tied back in a short ponytail. Katara, the younger of the two, also wore her hair in a traditional (some might say old-fashioned) Water Tribe style, bound back in a braid save for the two slim locks secured with beads at her forehead which looped back around her ears.

Neither of them was long out of childhood, but it wasn't hard to see that their spirits had reached maturity much more quickly than their bodies. That had become the way of the world in the years since the start of the Great War.

At the moment, Sokka was deeply engrossed in his work. He clutched a hooked fishing spear in his right hand, and was taking advantage of the cloudy day to lean out over the water without casting a shadow. Spying a fish the size of his hand just a few scant yards beneath their boat, he grinned, hefting his spear in excitement and readying himself to strike.

Before he could do so, he was unfortunately soaked by a deluge of water that splashed up over the side as the boat shifted dramatically to port.

"Gah!"

Sokka sputtered in shock and annoyance. By the time he had wiped the salt water out of his eyes and looked frantically back over the side of the canoe, the fish he'd had his eyes on had long since vanished. He whipped around to face his sister, who sat behind him with a sheepish expression on her face.

"What did you do?" he demanded angrily.

"Tried to catch a fish," she replied.

His eyebrows rose questioningly.

"I'm just trying to be helpful."

"By dumping water on me? Spirits, Katara!" he exclaimed. "Why do you have to screw everything up with your freaky water thing? The only reason I even brought you along is 'cause I'm not dumb enough to make the same mistake old Komi One-Leg did and try run the ice floes without a waterbender!"

Katara's striking eyes flashed and she raised her chin in a show of stubbornness. "Yeah, well, news flash O Great Warrior! We need fish!"

"And that's what I was doing! _Fishing!_ "

"Some fishing! Unless you want the whole village to starve, we're going to have to do better than sitting out here for hours while you spear barely enough fish to feed yourself," Katara said in an incensed tone.

Sokka growled in frustration. "Well maybe if some people didn't get me soaking wet _every ten seconds_ , we'd be doing better!"

"That's not my fault," Katara insisted. "You were moving around! You threw off my balance."

"Oh, so it's my fault you were playing with magic water instead of doing your job?"

With this, however, he had gone one step too far. Her bending had been a sensitive subject for many years. Katara leapt to her feet, cheeks already tinged pink from the freezing temperature now flushing red with anger. "Just shut up!" she shouted. "I am trying really, really hard here, Sokka!"

Unnoticed by her, the gentle waves that had been rocking their canoe began to increase in size and power, forcing Sokka to grab the sides of the little vessel to keep his seat.

"I'm so _sorry_ that I'm not the perfect woman who sits at the back of the boat and quietly does her job and nothing else and never ever makes a little mistake with her waterbending," Katara spat, wringing sarcasm from every syllable. "You brought me along to help, didn't you?"

"Katara, stop-!" her brother implored, trying to point out the huge waves that had caught their boat in the trough, threatening to submerge them.

"No!" Katara overrode him. "I'm not made that way, okay? I can't just sit back like a good little girl to satisfy your masculine vanity while our village is starving!"

She screamed the last few words, and as she did the waves she had unwittingly created crested, rolling away from them in every direction and stirring up the sea bed far below. The rebounding water tossed the canoe wildly about, and the siblings were thrown to the bottom of the vessel, holding on tight as the ocean made her unhappiness known. A low rumbling could be heard, and the boat began to steady.

"It's official," Sokka said without lifting his head from the bottom of the boat. "You've gone right past weird and on to freakish."

"I did that?" she asked in amazement.

He nodded, and moved to return to his seat, but suddenly he froze in place.

Katara sat up, her hands shaking from shock and residual anger. "Sokka-" she began, an apology already forming on her lips.

Before she could say another word, however, the expression on her brother's face as he looked past her kept her silent. She turned to follow where he was looking, and her own eyes widened. "What is that?" she whispered.

"That" was the most unusual iceberg either of them had ever seen. Perfectly round, with swirls and little air pockets running through it like a glass marble, it had apparently been trapped beneath the water only to be stirred up by Katara's impromptu tempest. What really stood out, though, were the two barely visible figures frozen within the ice. Katara's sharp eyes could make out a human body and some kind of animal the size of an elephant-whale and sporting a pair of ferocious horns. Katara felt the same sinking surprise in her gut that she had felt when she was twelve and had unexpectedly found the frozen carcass of a tundra wolf: a nauseating mixture of disgust, fascination, and sadness.

A few quick motions with her hands brought the nearby blocks of ice into alignment, creating a path across the open water between their canoe and the iceberg. With only slight hesitation, Katara leapt onto the nearest step.

"What are you doing?" Sokka hissed.

"I want to get a closer look," she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Her brother rolled his eyes, and then joined her in the unsteady walk across the free-flowing ice blocks.

Katara reached the flat crust of ice that surrounded the orb, and stood staring up into the barely-discernable face of the person within it. She thought the figure might be male, but she wasn't able to see anything else.

"How do you think they died?" Sokka asked.

She shrugged. "It must have been a long time ago," she mused. "What kind of animal is that? I've never seen anything like it."

"Probably some Earth Kingdom animal we don't have down here," Sokka suggested practically.

Katara nodded, her expression downcast. "It's so sad," she said. She reached out and laid one gloved hand on the slick surface of the orb.

Abruptly, the human figure's eyes snapped open, an unearthly glow emanating from them. Katara leapt back in shock and Sokka caught her arm to keep her from tumbling into the freezing ocean behind them.

"He's alive!" she exclaimed. "We have to help him!"

Before Sokka could react, she had seized her brother's club from him and was taking a running swing at the ice. He reached for her, but was unable to prevent her from slamming the head of the club into the orb's surface.

"No, Katara! Don't! We don't know what that-"

He never got to finish his sentence. Katara's desperate windmilling swings, though largely ineffective, managed to put a small crack in the orb. Abruptly, a jet of steam burst through the gap. Sokka grabbed his flailing sister and pulled her away, preventing them both from being scalded. The sudden outrush of heat culminated when the top blew off the orb and a brilliant beam of blue-white light that felt both soothing and blindingly hot and pierced the very sky.

* * *

Out on the sea, just at the border between the Earth Kingdom boundary waters and the cold seas that surrounded the pole, a lone ship was sailing southward. At the prow stood a man of eighteen or nineteen. Most of his scalp was shaved, save for the crown of his head where his hair was tied into a long topknot. He wore the uniform of a Fire Nation officer, and his youthful face would have been handsome were it not for the brutal scar that marred one side, leaving only his lower jaw intact on that side. The rough scar, clearly the result of a severe burn, covered the left side of his face; he lacked an eyebrow or eyelashes on that side, and the shell of his ear was mostly gone. His eyes, however, were undimmed and they shone the bright liquid-gold color that was unique to the noble classes of the Fire Nation. His expression was unyielding.

He was Zuko, a princeling in exile. Cast-off son of the Firelord, he had known no home but the very ship on which he stood and no companionship save for her small crew and his rotund uncle in well over three years.

It was an unjust punishment for so slight a crime as he had committed, but that was the way of Firelord Ozai. Why should his firstborn be exempt?

As was his habit, Zuko had been watching the sea intently for several hours, unnervingly still and silent. None of the crew was quite sure what he was looking for. It was not in the nature of Ozai's soldiers to question a prince of the Fire Nation, even a banished one.

Zuko's gaze did not turn away from the horizon. Although most of the left side of his face was twisted and horrible to look at, that eye was still bright and clear, the only thing spared by the fire that had disfigured him. It was this keen eye which caught the first sight of a thin column of light which shot into the sky far off the ship's port side.

The light was so bright it was hard to look at even from so far away.

One corner of Zuko's mouth twitched in a tiny and pathetic parody of a smirk.

With a wave of his hand, he signaled to a nearby sailor.

"Your orders, Prince Zuko?" the man asked.

The proud youth nodded. "Tell the helmsman... we have our heading."

* * *

The Water Tribe siblings lay flat on their backs, staring in awe and trepidation at the glow that surrounded them. The dramatic flare that had burst forth from within the ice dimmed, leaving the air crackling and electric in its wake. As it faded Katara could see that it had cracked the dome wide open, leaving a faintly shimmering rim of ice, like half of a broken egg.

"Now look what you did!" Sokka groaned, sitting up and pressing on his temples. He looked around and let out another groan, this time more from disappointment than from pain as he noticed a conspicuous absence in their surroundings. "And now the canoe is gone! If we die, I am never talking to you again!"

Katara paid him absolutely no mind. She had more interesting things to worry about. She rolled from her back onto her knees, crouching in the ice and staring up at the jagged edges of the shattered orb.

The person she had freed rose into view, climbing out of the ice on steady feet, with eyes literally glowing and a face terribly empty. Before Katara even had a chance to decide whether she should be afraid or not, the light faded from his eyes. He let out a faint sigh and his legs gave out. He tumbled bonelessly down the slope.

Katara scrambled forward to catch him before he could injure himself. He landed half in her arms and she staggered to her knees once more. She quickly turned him over onto his back, staring at him.

"He's so warm," she remarked softly, marveling at the unexpected heat of his skin, as her brother came to stand protectively beside her.

The mysterious figure, Katara was surprised to realize, was younger than she was. He appeared to be about thirteen or maybe a little older, with a willowy build and still at that age where he hadn't quite grown into his limbs, rather like a gangly polar-bear-dog pup whose paws are too big for him. His skin was much paler than any tribesman she had ever seen and his features, gone slack in unconsciousness, were delicate and regular. His clothes were strange, clearly intended for a warmer climate and cut from simple cloth in shades of yellow and orange.

Stranger than his attire, though, were the markings. His head was shaved completely bald and an arrow was tattooed in sky blue ink across his forehead and scalp, continuing right down the back of his neck and disappearing down his collar. As Katara looked the boy over, she saw similar markings on his bare feet and the backs of his hands. Curiosity piqued, she raised a graceful hand to touch the mark on his brow, but thought better of it at the last moment and drew her fingers back.

"Who _is_ he?" she whispered.

Sokka just stared mutely at the unconscious boy in the snow, a nervous look on his face.

The stranger began showing signs of life quickly, a flicker of an eyelid and a low hum in the back of his throat, clearly dragging his feet on the path back to consciousness. When at last he opened his large moon-grey eyes, his gaze fixed on Katara, who was closest to him. His eyes widened and he let out a soft gasp. Katara felt herself transfixed by him, and there was a strange, sudden sense of _recognition_ , which she couldn't have explained even if she had wanted to.

"Blue eyes," he mumbled.

"What?" Katara asked, thrown. She had been waiting on a _who are you?_ or a _where am I?_

"You have blue eyes," he clarified. "You're from the Water Tribe?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

The stranger sat up, forcing Katara to move back a bit to maintain a reasonable distance between them.

At that moment, Sokka chose to make his presence known. "Stay back!" he warned, putting a hand on his sister's shoulder to gently but firmly hold her back.

She felt a surge of annoyance. "Oh buzz off, Sokka!" she said, swatting away his arm and getting to her feet. She leaned forward and offered a hand to the stranger. He gratefully took her hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet. Katara noted off-handedly that he wasn't quite her height, maybe an inch or two shorter.

"What's going on here?" he asked, rubbing his forehead in bafflement.

"Shouldn't we be asking you that?" Sokka demanded, beginning to sound a little hysterical. "Who are you? How did you get in the ice? Why aren't you frozen?"

The boy shrugged. "I'm not sure." He looked prepared to say more, but a change came across his expression and he abruptly turned back to the remnants of the ice bubble he'd been encased in. With striking lightness of foot, he leapt in two graceful strides up the wall of ice and disappeared down the slope on the other side.

Katara met Sokka's eyes and they exchanged the kind of silent communication unique to siblings. _This kid is something else_. One simultaneous shrug later, and they followed him up and over the rim of the little glacial bowl.

As Katara slid to a graceful stop, her brother right behind her, she was pretty sure she could actually feel her eyes bugging out of her head. Their new acquaintance was sprawled over the head of the enormous creature who had shared his confinement in the ice, affectionately running his hands through its shaggy fur. Katara tried her best to come up with an apt description of the sluggish, disoriented beast she was seeing, but she couldn't find the words. She was absolutely dumbstruck.

Sokka, however, had no such inhibition. "What is _that?_ " he asked.

The strange boy looked up at them from his perch atop the animal's head, a delighted smile still on his face. "This is Appa," he said. "He's my flying bison."

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Riiiiight," he drawled skeptically. "And this is Katara, my flying sister."

"I'm serious," the younger boy replied. He patted one of the sky bison's curved horns, and the large creature gave a grunt of acknowledgement, tossing his head gently. His rider only laughed.

Katara realized she was eager to learn the identity of this very strange stranger. There was something about him that intrigued her... aside from the dramatic lightshow and strange tattoos, that is. She couldn't put her finger on what it was, but there was just a quality about him that aroused her natural curiosity. "So, you never told us your name," she prompted.

Distracted from the attentions he had been paying to his hairy friend, he looked down at her. "I'm Aang," he said, beaming at her.

"I'm Katara, and Sir Skeptic over here-" She jerked a finger over her shoulder. "-is my brother, Sokka."

Aang slid from his perch atop Appa's head and _floated_ downward to land gracefully in front of the siblings. "Nice to meet you," he said, as though nothing strange whatsoever had just occurred.

Katara's eyes widened at his actions, but she reined in the urge to bombard Aang with questions. The need to know, to _understand_ , was nearly overwhelming. If the utterly bemused expression on Aang's face as he looked around was anything to go by, however, he was just as out of his depth as they were. Therefore, she restrained herself to asking, "Do you really not know how you ended up in the ice?"

Aang shook his head. "No idea," he answered. The slight hesitation and the uncomfortable look on his face made Katara wonder if he were really being honest about that.

Sokka was rubbing his forehead again. "Light-up icebergs and tattooed boys and supposedly flying magic yaks... this is just too much. I don't know about you, Katara, but I'd like to get back to reality now."

The words had a sobering effect on Katara. Discovering Aang had been delightful (if strange) distraction. For just a few minutes, she'd forgotten the responsibilities that weighed on her, on _them_. But the harsh realities of their situation were closing in on her once again. Her unintentional display of water-bending and the subsequent explosive splintering of the iceberg had in all likelihood sunk their canoe, and along with it the entire catch of their fishing expedition. They were stranded on an iceberg a good hundred yards from the nearest shore, and even if they were to make it back to solid ground, they were a good eight hours out from their village. It was extremely fortunate, Katara reflected, that they had another option.

The Southern Water Tribe, unlike its metropolitan northern counterpart, was comprised of a collection of small, self-reliant villages strung out along the coastline. Political structure within the tribe was loose and communal, but an unofficial leader was generally agreed upon even in peacetime, and since war with the Fire Nation had broken out a century before, a long line of strong leaders had sprung up in Sokka and Katara's home village. It was from this bloodline, in fact, that the siblings themselves were descended. Their father, Hakoda, was the chief of the Tribe.

This status, though not accompanied by nearly as much pomp as a similar title might have in one of the other kingdoms, granted Hakoda's children a sort of distinction among their peers. It also granted them unrestricted freedom to travel between the other villages. Although the Water Tribe were generally a welcoming and neighborly people by nature, wartimes made paranoia into a lifestyle. Katara and Sokka were among the select group of people (which included the elders of the Tribe) who were welcomed into any village freely and without question at any time. The other villagers had too much respect for Hakoda to turn away his motherless children.

"There's no way we're going to make it home before the temperature drops tonight," Sokka said, apparently having come to the same conclusion his sister had reached only moments before.

"We'll have to try to walk to Kiviuq's village," she reasoned.

Sokka grudgingly nodded. "Considering you managed to soak me through, earlier, that's probably smart. I'm in no mood to die of frostbite. If we get moving now, we might be able to make it there by sunset. Let's get out of here."

He jerked his head at her, indicating clearly that she ought to get a move on and try to bend enough of the ice floe to make them a path, but Katara had other thoughts.

She turned to Aang. "What about you?" she asked. "Do you have anywhere to go?"

"This is the Southern Water Tribe, right?"

Katara nodded.

"Then... not really," he confessed, shuffling his feet. "I know a few people in the Northern Water Tribe, but no one from the South."

Katara shot a look at her brother that spoke volumes. Sokka rolled his eyes as if to say, _Oh, get on with it._

"Would you like to come with us, then?" she offered kindly.

Aang's formerly resigned expression let up in a brilliant grin. His features, which were caught somewhere between the man he would grow into and the round-faced look of childhood, suddenly seemed much younger. The guileless smile he gave Katara was honest and joyful, the kind of expression that no one old enough to know the name Firelord Ozai wore anymore. Katara found it incredibly strange to see such an innocent look on a teenager's face.

"I'd like that," he said. "And I might be able to help with your problem. Flying on Appa is a lot faster than walking! We can make it back to your village before dark for sure."

Sokka snorted his disbelief once more, still giving half his attention to the floating chunks of ice in the bay, undoubtedly trying to plan out a route to shore in case his sister's bending failed her. "If you think we're really getting on that big hairy beast with a total stranger, you've got another-"

His protest died in his throat as he looked around to see Aang already helping his sister get settled in one corner of the broad saddle on Appa's back.

"Katara, you're not serious," Sokka groaned.

She smirked at him. "If you've got a better plan, feel free to share."

"I do have a better plan!" Sokka said. "It's called 'head for Kiviuq's village and don't blindly trust the guy you just met!'"

"We can always keep that as a backup plan," Katara pointed out. "Come on, Sokka. Take a chance, won't you?"

Sokka hesitated a second longer, then shook his head, staring at his boots with a resigned sigh. "Fine," he muttered. He went over to Appa and grudgingly accepted Aang's hand up to the saddle, noting that the skinny newcomer was stronger than he looked. He would have to remember that. If he turned out to somehow be a Fire Nation spy, Sokka had no intentions of underestimating him just because he looked about as harmless as a polarbear-dog puppy.

As he settled into the saddle opposite his sister, Sokka wondered what had gotten into her. Katara was always an overly optimistic type, nearly to the point of naïveté at times, but this really took the cake.

Which, naturally, was why he couldn't help smirking her way when Aang's encouraging cry of "Yip-yip!" resulted in Appa's profound failure to fly.

"Wow," he drawled sarcastically as the bison belly-flopped into the sea. "That was truly amazing."

Katara's only reply was to stick her tongue out at him.

* * *

General Iroh, eldest son of the late Firelord Azulon, had been stripped of command. However, he had lost neither his title nor the fire-bending skill that had made him a living legend in his younger days. To all outward appearances, he was an overweight older gentleman interested only in pursuing the pleasures life had to offer him, but when tested he was still a formidable opponent.

The same could not be said for his pupil, young Prince Zuko, at least in the arena of firebending. His nephew had never been a prodigy by anyone's measure, and Iroh despaired of teaching him what he truly needed to learn: patience. Zuko, he reflected, had all the passion a firebender could ever want, but he lacked the restraint and composure necessary to master the art of bending.

What he was not lacking, however, was determination. This became apparent when Iroh attempted to talk his nephew into abandoning his post at the prow of the lone warship.

"I'm going to bed," he said pointedly. "A man needs his rest."

The young royal did not so much as glance at his aging uncle, who sighed. It was nearly nightfall but ever since that afternoon when a strange beam of light had shot into the air, visible for hundreds of miles around, Zuko had hardly moved from the position he was in now, as far forward as he could get, leaning forward into the frigid Arctic winds. Iroh knew why. For three years, Zuko had been searching tirelessly for one man. That determination was admirable, but at this particular moment, Iroh could find it nothing but frustrating.

"Prince Zuko, you need some sleep," he said more directly. "Even if you're right and the Avatar is alive, you won't find him. Your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather all tried and failed."

Zuko did not face him, but he fixed on his uncle in his peripheral vision for a long moment. "Because their honor didn't hinge on the Avatar's capture," he said disdainfully. His eyes turned once more to the horizon. "Mine does," he whispered. "This coward's century of hiding is over."

* * *

As it transpired, Katara's trust in their new friend had not been unfounded. Aang's (purportedly) flying bison might be a little lacking in the gravity-defying department, but he was certainly a reliable mount. Even with Appa limiting himself to swimming through the seas, his powerful tail propelled them at amazing speeds over the water. A journey that would have taken many hours by canoe was managed on Appa's back by the time night closed over the South Pole.

Most of the village was asleep for the night, safely curled up together within their igloos and seal-skin tents. The three young people crept quietly into the little community, conscious of the slumber of their neighbors. Sokka, completely fed up with the absurdity of the entire day, elected to wash his hands of the business and left his sister to deal with their strange new acquaintance.

Katara quietly pointed out the highlights of the village which could be easily seen from their entry point. There really wasn't much to it, truth be told. It had been larger once, but with most of the tribe's men away to war, there wasn't much sense sprawling out when a smaller (and more easily defensible) space would do just as well.

"I can't offer you a place in our igloo, I'm afraid," she said apologetically. "There's barely room for me and Sokka and Gran-Gran. But there are plenty of empty tents you can sleep in tonight."

"Thanks, Katara," Aang said. After a pause, he added, "You're really nice."

Katara smiled. "Thanks," she said.

"I don't think your brother likes me very much."

"That's just Sokka. He's a little paranoid, but he means well. Don't tell him I said that, though."

Aang gave her a lopsided half-grin at that. "My lips are sealed," he said, drawing his fingers across his mouth and turning an imaginary key at the corner.

Hiding her amusement, Katara said, "Anyway, I thought maybe we'd put you in Bato's tent. That's right next to us, so you'll be close by."

Through his "locked" lips, Aang let out a muffled series of sounds that might possibly have been "That sounds good."

At this, Katara couldn't help but laugh out loud, clapping one mitten-clad hand over her mouth to stifle the noise. "Come on, you," she said on a giggle. "We can get Appa battened down for the night."

Twenty minutes later, after a thorough struggle to get the huge bison's ice-stiffened saddle off his back and the much easier task of getting Aang the supplies he would need to keep him comfortable for the night in Bato's long-abandoned residence, Katara felt she'd done her job as hostess and bid her goodnight to her new friend.

She paused for just a moment at the entrance to her own home. She looked, as was her custom, to the moon. It was a nightly ritual, this staring contest she held with the glowing silver orb in the sky, her tiny way of paying homage to the original source of water-bending. The moon was just a slim waning crescent that night, but in just a few short weeks it would turn and reach full on the eve of her sixteenth birthday. Katara shivered, from a combination of the cold and the anxiousness she felt for that fast-approaching date.

As she looked away from the moon, her eyes fell briefly on the tent she had just left. A tiny hint of Sokka's doubt crept into her mind. If she was honest with herself, she didn't really know much about Aang other than his name. Logic was screaming at her to be careful, because not everyone was who they appeared to be, especially in times like these. Something else in her, however, the same something in her gut that kept her believing in a long-missing air-bender, was telling her to trust the boy she had found in the iceberg.

Katara had no idea, as she turned away and entered the igloo she shared with her small family, that her life was about to change radically. Fate had come knocking, and as is usually the case, the novice water-bender had no idea that she had already answered the door.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

~*Book 1: Wind & Water*~

Chapter 2: One Hundred Years of Solitude

* * *

Katara's morning had been... well, _strange_.

All things considered, nothing all that out of the ordinary had occurred. She had still risen before the sun, though admittedly, this was not all that difficult considering how late the sunrise was getting as winter deepened. She had still gone about her chores more or less as usual, and she had still gotten an earful of Sokka bemoaning the loss of their fish the afternoon before. Really, there wasn't much reason for her to feel so on edge.

She was on edge, though, and it had everything to do with the newcomer to the village.

Outsiders in the village were not unheard of. They received visitors from neighboring Water Tribe communities, and from time to time merchants from the Earth Kingdom would sail down to trade. Aang, though, was _different_.

As Katara glanced up from the cook-fire she was tending, she caught sight of the younger boy at the center of the tiny village, surrounded by a little cadre of children. Aang had been introduced to her grandmother and the rest of the villagers that morning, and he had quickly charmed the little ones. For a teenage boy, he had an unexpectedly playful manner that had won them over, and the result was the flock currently trailing around behind him everywhere he went. To his credit, he didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. Aang was fascinating to her. There was something entirely alien about him that piqued her curiosity in the very worst way. It was a lot of little things, actually. For a start, he seemed weightless. Literally weightless, if his behavior the day before was any indication, and metaphorically as well. He didn't act like somebody who had grown up under the threat of Fire Nation raids.

For another thing, his accent was strange. Katara had encountered Earth Kingdom traders with their soft consonants and rapid speech, and Fire Navy raiders whose brisk and precise words always felt stilted to her, but she had never heard an accent quite like Aang's. His emphases fell in unlikely places and he drew out his vowels. She couldn't place it for the life of her, and she knew she wasn't the only one trying; more than once, she had noticed Gran Gran watching him when he spoke, a thoughtful look on her face.

What had Katara most intrigued, though, was that he still hadn't said anything further about himself. Beyond his name, he hadn't told them a single thing about his identity or where he had come from. The mystery was what was keeping her tense, more than anything else. Aang had a right to keep his secrets if he wanted to, but not knowing was driving her crazy. He and Appa were definitely the most interesting thing to come to their little community in quite some time, and she wanted to know everything.

Across the village, Aang was gleefully introducing his gaggle of tiny followers to Appa, who was tolerating all the little hands pulling at his shaggy coat remarkably well. Katara couldn't help but be amused when the boy suddenly found himself with an armful of young Water Tribe girl when Appa snorted, panicking the child who had been sitting on his head. Aang was nearly strangled in the process of preventing the little girl from falling, but he just beamed at her and placed her gently back on her feet.

"He's certainly an unusual boy, isn't he?" Gran Gran asked.

Katara jumped, not having realized that her grandmother had approached her. "He's something, alright."

The elderly woman glanced at the stranger, who was coaxing the little girl back into proximity to Appa, who sniffed at her curiously as she tentatively patted his nose. Kanna's sky-blue eyes turned back to Katara. "And he still hasn't said anything about how he ended up inside that iceberg?"

"Not to me. But I've been busy for most of the day, so we haven't had much chance to talk."

Gran-Gran raised an eyebrow. "Well, perhaps you should take a little time to get to know our guest, Katara," she suggested.

For once, Katara had no trouble hearing through what her grandmother was saying to what she actually meant. She was being told _Be a good hostess_ , and also _You had better make sure you haven't brought a Fire Nation spy into our village_.

"I will, just as soon as I'm done with this."

"I may be an old woman, Katara, but I'm perfectly capable of tending to a pot of boiled fish," Gran-Gran pointed out. Her expression softened slightly and she added, "Go on. I can see you're curious about him."

Katara's glance shot between the laughing Aang and the cooking that was to have been her chore, and then her mind was made up. "Thanks, Gran-Gran!" she exclaimed, and she hurried to catch up to Aang.

* * *

If Katara was distracted by the presence of her new friend in the village, her brother was arguably more so.

Sokka watched out of the corner of his eye as his sister approached Aang and gently pulled him away from his disappointed little followers. Tension rolled through Sokka's shoulders as he watched the two of them wander in the direction of the low outer wall of the village. Something about this whole affair smelled very fishy (and not in the good way). The newcomer had given no satisfactory explanation for his presence within the iceberg, or even what he intended to do now that he was free. If he had nothing to hide, why would he be so secretive?

If it had been up to him, Sokka would have slipped away right then and there to trail Aang and Katara as they walked, but unfortunately for his peace of mind, he had other business to attend to. With a heavy sigh, he turned back to the village's defense squadron...

Or, in plainer terms, a rather pathetic group of young boys and old men. Four years previously, the last of the Tribe's warriors had set sail to aid the Earth Kingdom in the war against the Fire Nation. The only men left behind were those such as Sokka who were too young at the time, and the very elderly men who would have been of little use in a fight. They were a ragtag bunch but Sokka, as the oldest of the young ones, had found himself unexpectedly in a position of authority and he was going to make them a force to be reckoned with if it killed him. It didn't matter that most of his warriors were under the age of ten and the rest were over the age of sixty. He wasn't going to let his village stand defenseless the next time a Fire Nation commander came looking for easy pickings.

"Alright, men," he said in his most authoritative tone, "Who remembers the weak points in Fire Navy armor?"

He was met with a long line of blank faces. Sokka restrained another sigh. All his old warriors were falling asleep in their seats, and the younglings... well, most of them were off tailing Aang around yet. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

When Sokka found the opportunity to talk to his sister, it was nearly dinnertime. Katara was helping to repair a damaged igloo when he found her, but the importance of her task didn't stop Sokka from grabbing her by the elbow and leading her what he felt was a safe distance away.

"Sokka! What are you doing?" she protested.

"What has he said to you?"

Katara's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who do you mean?"

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Kiviuq. Who do you think? I mean Aang! I saw you two getting awfully buddy-buddy this afternoon. What did you talk about?"

"What does it matter to you?"

"Humor me."

" _Not_ that it's any of your business-" Katara said with a pointed look, "-but we talked about a lot of things."

"Anything specific?"

She sighed. "Appa mostly, and I explained about the winter herring-crab runs."

Sokka's eyebrows rose as he gave his sister a dubious look. "You really expect me to believe that you get one-on-one conversation time with the first new person in the village in almost a year, and you talked about _herring-crabs_?"

"Aang was curious. What's it to you, anyway? Why do you care what Aang and I talk about?" she asked.

"What if he's a Fire Nation spy?" Sokka suggested forcefully.

Her eyes widened. "No way!" she said immediately. "Aang couldn't possibly be Fire Nation. He's too... too-"

"Too what? Too nice?"

"Well, what if he is?"

Sokka snorted. "Come on, Katara. This is the Fire Nation we're talking about. Who knows what kind of tricks they have up their sleeve? I wouldn't be surprised if they sent someone like Aang, somebody who seems all innocent to get on our good sides and spy... and then the second they find out there's still one waterbender left at the South Pole- BAM! Instant Fire Navy raid."

Katara's lips had gone pale from how hard she was clenching her jaw. "Aang wouldn't do that," she insisted.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I just... I just _know_ , okay?"

He gave her a measured look. "Forgive me if I'm not totally convinced by your flawless argument," he said. "Just think about it, Katara. I know you want to trust this guy, but keep your eyes open. And whatever you do, _don't_ let him know you're a bender!"

She shook her head. "You're paranoid, Sokka."

"Better paranoid than dead," he said as he walked away.

Katara returned to the family she had been assisting before he pulled her aside, doing her best to put the conversation out of her mind. But even as she lifted the heavy blocks of ice back into place (with as much help as her untrained bending skill could provide her), she couldn't help but think about what her brother had said.

* * *

The Southern Water Tribe, Aang reflected, was not at all what he had expected.

He had spent the whole morning in the company of the children of the village, and he'd passed most of the afternoon in conversation with a toothless old man who couldn't be a year under eighty. The children had been fun to play with, and the man who had proudly identified himself as Komi One-Leg (with a knowing tip of his head to indicate the wooden carving that had replaced his right leg from the knee down) had entertained him for hours with stories of his misadventures on the high seas. Despite the warm welcome, Aang couldn't help but feel there was something... _wrong_. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but as he sat down with the villagers to a community supper, the feeling continued to plague him that something very strange was going on.

"Here you go," Katara said, handing him a plate full of what appeared to be boiled fish.

Aang frowned. "I, um... I don't eat meat," he said.

Her blue eyes widened. "Not at all?" she asked, surprised.

"No."

He wasn't used to explaining this to people, having grown up surrounded by fellow Air Nomads. Even when he had been taken on excursions across the other nations, his fellow monks had accompanied him and he'd never had to explain their tradition of abstaining from consuming flesh. It was taken for granted by everyone he'd ever met. But the people of the Southern Water Tribe didn't seem to know this. Actually, come to think of it, he wasn't sure if they even knew he was an Air Nomad. Yet another thing to include on the list of things that just didn't add up.

"Oh," Katara said, giving him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I can get you something else." Before Aang could say another word, she was out of her seat and scurrying off in the direction of the cooking area. He followed her with his eyes until she disappeared behind a tent.

As strange as this whole day had been, meeting Katara was definitely an upside to this whole misadventure. It had never been difficult to earn Aang's friendship, but Katara had wormed her way into his affections remarkably quickly, even by his standards. She was nice, a lot nicer than the other people in the village except maybe the children, and he liked talking to her. He hadn't had much chance to spend time with her that day, given how busy she was, but she'd found time early in the afternoon to seek him out and talk to him. Aang had many friends across the four nations, Swati and Kuzon and Bumi and the rest, and he already knew that Katara was going to be one of those names he would remember long after they had parted ways.

If he was honest with himself, Katara was a big part of the reason he was already dreading leaving. He knew he would have to return to the Temple sooner rather than later, but he didn't really want to. He liked her company, and he liked the freedom of anonymity here in the Southern Water Tribe. Despite the feeling of wrongness he kept sensing, despite the searching gaze of his new friend's grandmother and despite Sokka's scrutiny, he was enjoying himself. This was what he'd been searching for, after all. He'd wanted a chance to clear his head and despite his slightly unorthodox method of arrival, that was exactly what he was getting. When he was helping Komi mend ripped fishing nets, when he was talking to Katara, things seemed to make sense again. He didn't feel like Aang the Prodigy or Aang the Avatar, he just felt like... Aang.

It was nice to be comfortable in his own skin again.

Katara returned then, interrupting his musings, and plopped down next to him. "Here," she said, offering him a bowl.

Aang sniffed experimentally at what she had handed him.

"Stewed sea prunes are kind of an acquired taste, but we don't really have a lot that isn't meat-based," she said, "especially during the winter."

"Thank you, Katara," Aang said, and he meant it. He meant it a little less a few seconds later when he put a spoonful of the soupy concoction in his mouth and was rewarded with a taste somewhat like wet bison fur, but he managed to smile as if he were enjoying it. When Katara grinned back, he decided it was worth it.

Neither of them spoke again for a few minutes. They, like the rest of the village, were preoccupied with eating quickly in order to take shelter inside before the swiftly-setting sun robbed their arctic home of what little warmth it had.

It was Katara who broke the silence first. As Aang was choking down another spoonful of the disgusting prunes, she asked, "Aren't you cold?"

"Huh?"

"I've been wondering all day," she explained. "You're obviously from somewhere north of here, and you're wearing such thin clothing. Aren't you freezing?"

Aang shrugged. "Temperature never bothers me."

Katara laughed incredulously. "You're kidding!"

"Nope. I've never had a problem with different climates."

"Have you traveled a lot?" she asked.

"I sure have," he said. "All over the world."

"Everywhere but the Fire Nation, I bet," she guessed.

_What an odd thing to say_ , Aang thought. That creeping feeling that something was _wrong_ assailed him again, but he pushed it away. He was too caught up in the admiring look Katara was giving him; it was too nice to be appreciated for things that had absolutely nothing to do with bending. "No," he said. "I've been to the Fire Nation, too."

Her exotic blue eyes widened. "What's it like there?" she asked.

"It's beautiful. It's always warm, and they have the best festivals in the summertime."

Katara's expression closed off very suddenly, and for the life of him Aang couldn't understand why. "Sounds interesting," she said flatly.

"That's the life of a nomad," Aang said, trying to bring back the levity of the conversation.

"I guess so."

The two of them talked quietly for the rest of the meal, but it felt a little stilted. Aang could see that Katara was more attentive to her own thoughts than to what they were saying. He wondered what he had said wrong to make her withdraw, but he couldn't think of anything.

Eventually, he gave up trying to make her smile again, and excused himself to say goodnight to Appa, who had been unceremoniously exiled beyond the village wall after he had sat on an igloo.

Perhaps if he had stuck around, he would have heard Katara repeat thoughtfully to herself, "The life of a nomad, huh?"

* * *

The sun had set only half an hour before, but the temperatures had plummeted dramatically in that time. It was not a good climate for fire-benders, but Prince Zuko had never been the kind of person to let a little thing like the weather stop him.

Zuko had been in a foul disposition earlier in the evening. He had intended to reach the shores belonging to the Southern Water Tribe in the early afternoon, but a strong headwind and rough seas had slowed the progress of his little steam-ship enough to keep them at sea until sunset. The delay had not pleased him in the slightest, but now that they were on land and making tangible headway on his quest, Zuko felt his mood lifting.

It had been quick work for his crew, small though they were, to surround the first town (if the cluster of ice-huts and foul tents even justified the name) they encountered once they reached land. It hadn't taken much longer for them to storm through the lanes and pull the Water Tribe citizens from their dens and out into the starlight, each of them forced down on their knees in the snow with his crew's spears at their backs.

Zuko strode between their ranks, not so much as glancing at them. He didn't need to look at them to get what he wanted from them.

"Lieutenant Jee!" he called.

"Yes, Prince Zuko?" the officer responded.

"Have you found our target?"

"No, sir."

At this moment a youth of about sixteen, who had somehow managed to evade capture, came hurtling out from behind an ice-wall. Bone spear raised, he made a mad charge against Zuko, whose back was to him. "Death to Fire Nation scum!" he cried, desperate light flaring in his eyes.

Zuko might not be a particularly skilled fire-bender (by the standards set by the royal family anyway), but he was an extremely proficient martial artist otherwise, and disarming the teenager required nothing more than an elegant sidestep and two quick jabs with his open hands. The Water Tribe boy went down in the snow with a heavy grunt, and before he even had a change to get his breath back Zuko had grabbed him by the throat and hauled him to his knees. He bent over to stare his would-be killer in the eye even as he allowed his palm to heat with a few licks of flame. The boy whimpered as his neck was scorched.

"Where is he?" he demanded.

Despite the pain he was in, the younger boy showed courage. "Kiviuq of the Water Tribe will never bow to Fire Nation scum!" he vowed.

Zuko raised his one good eyebrow. "Really?" The temperature of his palm against his opponent's skin rose several degrees, eliciting another groan of pain. "Where is the airbender?" he asked.

"I don't know any airbender!" Kiviuq insisted.

The disfigured prince tossed him away in disgust. "If you won't talk," he said, "I'm sure there's someone here in this godforsaken village who will!" He turned to the three short rows of tribal women and children who had been lined up for his perusal.

He strode back and forth in front of them, studying them intently, using the unsettling effect of his scar to his advantage as he made sure each of them got a good long look at him. The fearful looks he received and the shudders of revulsion as they looked at his face were like physical blows to the young man, but he would sacrifice his vanity for the chance to restore his honor at long last.

"If you tell me where the air-bender is, I will spare your village," he informed them. "If you resist me, I will not hesitate to burn your homes to the ground, and continue on to do the same to every last village in the South Pole until I find him."

Kiviuq, forgotten and left to his misery, looked up. His blue eyes showed renewed determination, and while Zuko preoccupied himself with the rest of his village he pulled himself to his feet and slunk toward the edge of the firelight. By the time the shrill screams of an old woman filled the air, he was trudging across the tundra, tears in his eyes.

* * *

The next morning, Katara awoke with a suspicion fully formed in her mind.

It was, on the surface of it, a wholly ridiculous idea. If she'd had any intention at all of confiding in her brother, she knew he would say that it was just her own wishful thinking making her believe things that weren't possible. Except, to her mind, the conclusion she had drawn was the only one that made any sense. After she'd talked to Sokka the previous day, for awhile she'd begun to have serious reservations about Aang. As much as her heart was telling her that she could trust him, she couldn't deny that Sokka had had a point. With that in mind, she'd approached Aang at dinner and tried to probe him for a little information; she hadn't known what to make of the fact that he openly admitted he had been to the Fire Nation. Surely a spy wouldn't admit any affiliation at all with the Fire Nation? Unless that was just what a spy would want you think?

All in all, Katara had gone to bed feeling terribly confused. Her new friend was a contradiction inside a mystery, and she really didn't want to find out that he was actually a Fire Nation spy on the hunt for waterbenders.

Then during the night, all the strange things about Aang had coalesced into a firm picture in her mind. The way he moved as if his feet barely needed to touch the ground, his tattoos, the strange things he had said, his shaved head that marked him rather obviously as a member of some kind of religious order, his (reportedly) flying bison, that comment he'd made about being a nomad... all of it had settled into place and Katara was sure she knew the truth.

She dressed quickly in the pre-dawn darkness and didn't even bother to tame her dark curls back into their usual braid before hurrying outside. She had to talk to Aang.

It took her several minutes to find him. He was not in the tent that had once belonged to Bato, but a little searching revealed him curled up against Appa's side, fiddling with a fishing net which he seemed to be having more success tangling than repairing.

"Hi, Katara!" he said brightly, smiling up at her. "You're up early."

"So are you," she pointed out.

His grin just got bigger in response.

"Aang, I have something very important to ask you," she said.

The smile slipped noticeably. "What?" he asked warily.

"Are you-" Katara paused, swallowed, and took a deep breath before continuing. Gods, she hoped she was right. "Aang, are you an airbender?"

The anxious look he'd had on his face vanished, chased away with a chuckle. "Is that all? Of course I'm an airbender!" he replied.

It was the answer she'd been looking for, but Katara couldn't help but feel amazement that it was actually the answer she'd received. "That's... _incredible!_ " she exclaimed. "I can't believe it!"

"What's so strange about that?" he asked. "Haven't you ever seen an airbender before?"

She sat down next to him. "No. I've never met _any_ other benders before... well, except firebenders, but that's different."

Aang's eyebrows drew together in a look of concerned confusion. "Why do you keep saying things like that?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, whenever you mention the Fire Nation, you just... I mean... why are firebenders different?"

It suddenly occurred to Katara to wonder just how long Aang had been frozen. Was it possible that he didn't...?

"Aang," she said gently, "just how long do you think you were trapped in that iceberg?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. A few days, maybe a week?"

Katara hesitated. "I think it might have been a lot longer than that. The Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom have been at war with the Fire Nation for decades."

"What?" he exclaimed. "That can't be right!"

"Almost a century ago, the Fire Nation attacked the other nations without any warning," she said.

Aang looked stricken, and Katara felt sick to her stomach. This wasn't news she was happy to bring, and now that her suspicions about him had been confirmed, the worst was yet to come. "You asked me if I'd ever seen an airbender before," she said, hating that she had to be the one to tell him this, to witness his ordinarily smiling face come crashing down. "No, I haven't, Aang. No one has. The Air Nomads all vanished a hundred years ago, and no one has seen an airbender since."

"That's... not possible," he said, shaking his head slowly.

She reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Aang."

He stared at his knees for a very long minute. Then, abruptly, he looked up at her. His face gave no clue what he was thinking. "What about waterbenders, though?" he asked. "Surely you must know some waterbenders!"

"No. The last of them were captured by the Fire Nation when Gran-Gran was still young, and we haven't had contact with the Northern Tribe in years. I'm the first waterbender to be born at the South Pole in almost thirty years," she told him, baffled by his change of direction. Then again, maybe it wasn't so surprising. If she'd just received that kind of news, she wouldn't want to think too hard about it, either.

"But how did you learn?" he asked.

Katara shrugged. "I haven't, really. Most of what I know I've just had to figure out for myself."

Aang's eyes widened. "You have to find a teacher!" he said.

She chuckled bitterly. "That would be great, but how exactly am I going to do that? The North Pole is the only place where there might be anybody who could, and I have no way to get there."

"But I do!" he said. "Or did you forget that I have a flying bison?" He patted one of Appa's six massive legs fondly. "I can fly you to the North Pole."

Katara snorted. "Yeah, right."

He gazed at her earnestly. "No, I'm serious. Why not? Why don't we go to the North Pole, Katara?"


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

~*Book 1: Wind & Water*~

Chapter 3: Airbenders and Invaders

* * *

" _I'm serious. Why not? Why don't we go to the North Pole, Katara?"_

Katara gaped at Aang. What he was suggesting... it was crazy. She hardly knew Aang. She had never even been past the boundary waters, let alone as far away as the North Pole. To just run away, leave her family behind and set out on a fool's errand to find a waterbending master, would be completely crazy.

It would also be exactly what she wanted to do.

She looked at Aang, staring up at her with earnest eyes, and at that second she wanted to leap on back of his crazy flightless flying bison and take off for the other side of the world in the company of a boy who wasn't much more than a stranger. The world was calling out to her, all the adventures she had ever dreamed of. The chance to be a real, proper waterbender at last was oh so tempting. And her curiosity about Aang the Airbender didn't hurt things either.

But...

"I can't."

"Why not?" He was visibly crestfallen.

She sighed, leaning back against Appa's hairy foreleg. "I wish I could." She met his eyes squarely, trying to let him know just how much she meant it. "But... they need me here. My village- my _family_ \- we're barely scraping by as it is. The arctic isn't the easiest place to live at the best of times, but with all of the men away at war, it's even harder. I'm the only waterbender left. Trained or not, I'm the only person who can protect a canoe on a fishing trip during the winter ice pack. As much as I would love to go to the North Pole, I know where I'm needed."

"Oh," Aang replied. "That makes sense."

"Sorry."

He looked up in surprise. "Why are you apologizing?"

She shrugged. "You just seemed so enthusiastic about it... I hate to say no."

"I guess sometimes I forget that not everyone's nomad," he said sheepishly. "Not everybody has such an easy time packing up and moving on."

"Mm-hm."

Silence descended between them. The quiet was not awkward, but it wasn't entirely comfortable, either. Both teens were absorbed in their own turbulent thoughts, and it seeped into the atmosphere between them. Katara stewed in her own uncertainty. The temptation to change her mind was powerful, responsibilities be damned. Aang, for his part, appeared to be preoccupied with staring at his knees, an unreadable expression on his face.

After some minutes, he looked up. "Katara?"

"Yeah?"

"You were just kidding, right? About the war, I mean. That was a joke, right? It was kind of a bad one, but-"

"Aang, I wasn't joking."

Katara's heart broke for him, watching him try to rationalize his way out of the impossible situation he was in. Coming to a snap decision, she stood up and offered him her hand. "There's something you should see," she told him as she helped him to his feet.

Aang paused just a moment to retrieve something from Appa's saddle: a slender wooden staff about a foot taller than he was. Katara was curious, but decided not to ask, instead leading him off in the opposite direction from the village. She wasn't sure if this was the best way to handle the situation, but she felt that Aang needed to see tangible evidence of the war he had slept through. If she were in his place, she would have a hard time accepting it, too. But if he was going to live in the world as it was now, he was going to have to know. He couldn't just ignore it, even though Katara knew that she herself would happily do so if that were possible.

Katara had more than enough experience with grief to know that although nothing made the pain of it go away, it was better to accept it than to live in denial.

"Where are we going?" he asked presently.

"We're almost there." And she was right. They rounded a cliff of ice shaped into fantastic patterns by wind and water, and came face to face with... _it_. The _Moesashi_.

She chanced a look at Aang's face, and saw his eyes widen and his jaw literally drop. "What _is_ that?"

"It's a Fire Navy ship," she informed him. "When my Gran-Gran was young, and there were still waterbenders at the South Pole, the Fire Nation made a lot of raids on us to capture them all, which is why I'm the last. During one of the attacks, our waterbenders trapped this ship in the ice and drove the rest away. We left it here as a monument to the warriors who lost their lives defending us."

Everything about Aang bespoke devastation, from his drooping shoulders to his downcast eyes. "This can't be happening," he whispered, staring at the snow with overbright eyes. "This isn't right." He whipped around to look at her directly, something very wild in his face. "One hundred years?"

She nodded sadly. "One hundred years."

"Hasn't anybody tried to stop it?"

Katara was seized with an urge to laugh. "Who could? The Fire Nation won't stop, and the only way we could end it would be to surrender and we can't do that! The only person who could possibly have ended this was the Avatar, and he vanished a century ago, too." A sudden thought occurred to her. "Say, Aang... you're an Air Nomad. Do you have any idea what happened to him?"

Wary, he asked, "To who?"

"To the Avatar. The last one was an Air Nomad, right? Did you know him?"

Aang's posture was inexplicably tense and he shuffled his feet. "Was I ever introduced to him, you mean?"

"Um... I guess," Katara said, confused by his evasive question.

He shrugged. "I wasn't ever formally introduced to the Avatar, no," he said.

Katara sighed. "Oh. It was worth a shot. I just thought... well, I've always thought that somehow, some way, the Avatar would come back to save us."

Aang rubbed his head. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault. I guess I just got my hopes up again that, with you being an airbender and all, you might know."

He looked away and gazed out across the snow. The sky to the east was lighting up, the very rim of the sun's bright disk peeking over the horizon and casting a slight glitter on the tundra. Darkness still prevailed in the sky, but streaks of pink and gold were creeping across the landscape.

"A hundred years... I can't believe it."

She put a hand on his shoulder, needing to reassure him however she could. "I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "I can't even imagine how you must be feeling."

He nodded. "I don't really want to think about it right now."

"Then we won't."

He gave her a little smile, those silver-grey eyes lighting up with gratitude. Katara couldn't help but smile right back. Even with the weight of the war suddenly dumped on him, there was something about Aang that was just... easy. She wasn't sure how to explain it beyond that. He seemed so free. Maybe it was a nomad thing.

"Hey Katara, want to know a secret?" he said.

Another abrupt subject change, another sidestep of the looming issues trying to weigh him down. Yep, definitely a nomad thing, she decided.

"Um... sure?"

"I can fly."

She laughed out loud. "You're not serious!"

"Yes I am," he insisted. He held his staff out from his side and with a flick of a finger, hidden panels on the side snapped open to reveal wide orange sails, like a large cloth fan. "I can bend the air currents around my glider and fly. Want to see?"

"Of course! What kind of question is that?"

He gave her a sly grin, caught onto the little handholds at the front of his glider, and leapt into the air.

True to his word, rather than crashing back to earth, he rose up into the air. He did an elaborate series of twists and loop-the-loops in the sky above her head, silhouetted against the late sunrise. Katara laughed in delight.

"That's amazing!" she called up to him.

Aang gave her a broad grin and she returned it twofold, extremely glad that he wasn't dwelling on the bad news she'd had to give him.

"Race you back to the village!" he called down, before turning sharply and zooming off over the tundra.

Katara's mouth dropped open in outrage. "No fair, you cheater!" she cried, and took off at a dead sprint after him. She was hopelessly outmatched, with Aang in the sky and herself stuck on the ground, but she was at least able to use her waterbending to give herself a little bit more traction against the patches of ice that might have caused a non-bender to slip and fall.

By the time she arrived at the village, she was breathless and red in the face from the sting of the wind, her hood having long since been blown back by her momentum.

The other villagers were up and about by the time they returned, meaning that they were witness to Katara crashing headlong into Aang as he touched down unexpectedly in front of her. He threw an arm around her and she grabbed onto the front of his tunic and somehow they managed to stay on their feet, but it was a very near thing. They steadied, and for a split second they were silent, staring at each other in surprise.

"Sorry," Aang said solemnly.

Then Katara dissolved into giggles, laughing almost too hard to breath, and Aang laughed with her, both of them oblivious to the rest of the village staring at them.

"You are... _ridiculous!_ " Katara gasped out, still leaning on him. "Why would you come down right in front of me?"

"I didn't realize you were going that fast!" he chuckled.

Katara smiled broadly at him, still trying to rein in her giggling. She hadn't had this much fun in... she wasn't sure how long, actually.  It seemed that whatever magic Aang had used on the village children to make them play so freely, it had worked on her, too.

"Katara," Aang said as his laughter subsided, wiping at his eyes and making a valiant effort to sober himself, "while I was up there, I thought I saw someone out on the tundra."

"It's probably Sokka," she said.

"It didn't look like Sokka, though," he said.

Katara frowned, her mirth fading away. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Maybe we should go look," she said.

He nodded, and pointed inland, away to the south. "Whoever it was, he was off that way." He closed his glider with a snap, and together they walked in the direction he had indicated, ignoring the small collection of villagers who were gaping at them.

Despite the late scarlet sunrise staining the horizon it was still fairly dark and difficult to see, and what was visible was blinding from the reflection of sunlight on the ice, so Katara studied the landscape carefully, afraid to miss anything.

They walked for several minutes before Katara asked, "How far away was the person you saw?"

"A quarter mile from the village, it seemed like. I'm sure he was around here somewhere," Aang replied. Then he let out a low, frustrated groan. "This is _impossible!_ "

With no warning, he simply jumped. He rocketed upward into the sky a good forty feet, blowing Katara's hood back yet again with the blast of air he left in his wake, then drifted far too slowly back to earth.

"I found him," he said simply. "Forty yards that way. He seems hurt."

He took off at a run, Katara right on his heels. They raced through the icy landscape. And there, just barely concealed behind the low rise of a hill, was the man Aang had spotted. He was eighteen and handsome, with hazel eyes that were striking and unusual among the blue-eyed Water Tribe peoples. His hair, which might ordinarily have been bound up in a warrior's wolf-tail, was a loose and scattered mess that hung in his face. But Katara knew him.

Seeing the young man's legs about to give way under him, she dashed forward and attempted to catch him in her arms as he fell. She didn't quite manage to hold him up, but at least she cushioned his fall as he went down. She landed in the snow with a heavy _oomph!_ and, once she'd got her breath back, sat up and turned him over.

"Kiviuq?" she asked in a horrified tone. "Oh no, what happened?"

"Fire Nation," Kiviuq choked hoarsely. His voice was strained and weak and Katara saw why immediately. His throat was encircled in a ring of vicious burns that were suspiciously hand-print shaped. In addition, his otherwise pleasing features were marred with several small cuts and a large swelling bruise above his left eye. Worse than his injuries, though, was what he was wearing. He was only wearing a thin sleeping tunic, and from the looks of his greying, swollen feet, he had been barefoot out in the cold for a long time.

Katara's eyes widened. "He's barely conscious," she said, looking up at Aang with an edge of panic in her expression. "His village is almost eight hours' walk from here, and he's come all this way injured."

Aang nodded. He bent down and lifted Kiviuq. Although the older boy was sturdily built and taller than him, Aang displayed little difficulty in carrying him. "Come on," he said. "Let's get him back to the village."

* * *

By the time they had managed to carry Kiviuq back to the village, he had completely passed out. Aang carried him into the medicine house, where two middle-aged women, under the direction of one of the elders, began to dress the young warrior's wounds.

Katara was left to fret outside. She sat down on the ground, drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging her arms around them tightly, Kiviuq's quiet pronouncement still rattling inside her head. Between his burns and his words, there was no doubting that the Fire Nation had attacked their neighboring town, and considering how long it took to walk from there to here, she knew it had to have happened in the evening the night before. She prayed that they would take whatever they had come for from Kiviuq's village and be on their way, but she couldn't shake the image of Fire Navy ships cruising through the icy waters, steadily and silently approaching.

Aang emerged from the tent and dropped down beside her in the snow with a sigh. "The woman- Anyu?- said they should probably be able to patch him up."

She let out a soft sigh of relief. "Thank goodness.

"His injuries aren't as bad as they looked," Aang informed her. "It's mostly just exposure, but his feet are pretty frostbitten."

Katara glanced down at Aang's bare feet. He hadn't put on his strange, soft little shoes yet that morning. "You should put on your shoes," she suggested.

He followed where she was looking and shrugged. "Nah. They're all the way over in Appa's saddle. Like I told you, cold doesn't bother me much."

"Benefit of being an airbender?" she asked with a shaky grin.

He nodded. "Definitely a benefit of being an airbender."

"So it's true, then?" a voice interrupted. "You are an airbender, Aang?"

The two sitting on the ground looked up to see Sokka towering over them, arms folded.

Aang nodded. "Yeah, I'm an Air Nomad."

"How is that possible? They've been extinct for generations!"

Katara didn't miss the wince from Aang as Sokka tossed out this pronouncement. "Well, Aang is one," she replied hotly, buying Aang a moment to recover. "He even showed me some airbending!"

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Great, as if one bender around here wasn't enough. Now we've got two of you to waste time playing with magic when there's real work to be done."

"It's not magic!" Aang protested, echoing Katara's thoughts before she even had a chance to give voice to them.

The older boy waved a hand. "Whatever. Not important right now." He refocused on Katara, who was getting to her feet. "Listen, Old Komi told me you guys found Kiviuq out on the tundra. What's going on?"

"We're not sure. He was pretty much unconscious by the time we found him, but he has some burns, and he said something about the Fire Nation."

"The Fire Nation?" Sokka parroted, visibly perturbed.

Katara nodded. "He fainted after that, but I think something must have happened over in his village."

"I've got to talk to him!"

"Wait, Sokka, you might not want to-" the airbender began.

But Sokka had already brushed past them and entered the medicine house.

"...go in there," Aang finished lamely.

Exactly five seconds later, Sokka was outside again, looking a little green around the gills. Throwing an irritated look at Katara, he said, "Let me know the second he's in a fit state to talk," and stormed off.

Katara shot Aang a look of confusion.

He grimaced. "They were gonna remove the dead tissue from the burns on his neck. Not pretty."

She nodded her understanding. She'd seen the process before. It really wasn't for the weak of stomach.

With Sokka now gone, Katara felt more comfortable sitting, and slid back down onto the ground. Aang joined her.

"So, that guy..."

"Kiviuq."

"Yeah. Is he a friend of yours or something?"

Katara shrugged. "Something like that." She was silent for awhile, staring at her knees thoughtfully. "He's a few months older than Sokka, which means he's the oldest man left in the Southern Water Tribe whose hair hasn't turned white yet. My father led all the other men away to war more than four years ago, but guys like Sokka and Kiviuq were too young to go, then."

"So you guys grew up together?"

"More or less. We're from different villages, but our fathers were friends, so we saw enough of each other. I..." She hesitated, the words bubbling on the tip of her tongue, demanding to be spoken. And somehow, it seemed easier to say them to Aang, a relative stranger, than to someone who had known her her entire life. "Can I tell you a secret?"

He nodded. "I'm great at keeping secrets."

"I'm turning sixteen in a few weeks. That means I'll be old enough to get married. And... it's kind of been hinted that Kiviuq would be an acceptable suitor."

Aang's eyebrows rose, but he said nothing.

"And... I'm not sure how to feel about that," she added, finally confessing the thing that had been sitting on her chest ever since Gran-Gran had started hinting at _what a handsome young man that darling Kivi was_. "I mean, Kiviuq's always been nice to me, more than most people, but I don't really know him. If he made me a betrothal necklace, I don't know if I could accept it."

She couldn't meet his eyes, feeling both weightless and drowned under her own honesty, and simply let her words hang there in the air.

"You're meant for more than that," Aang said suddenly, breaking the silence.

At that, she had to look up at him. "What? How do you know?"

"Well, don't _you_ think you are?"

He had a point there. Maybe it was because, for as long as she could remember, her waterbending had singled her out, but Katara had never felt like she quite fit the traditional roles expected of the women of the tribe.

"Well... yeah," she admitted.

"Then, you are."

"Simple as that?"

"Simple as that."

She let out a low chuckle, completely nonplussed at his matter of fact approach to a matter that had been plaguing her for over a year. "You certainly have an odd perspective on things, Aang."

* * *

The first thing Kiviuq saw upon his return to consciousness was the face of Hakoda's daughter. She had never looked more beautiful to him. His head was muzzy and he was disoriented, unsure of where he was or what had happened after he fled the firebender's attack, but she was there and he couldn't bring himself to care about much else right at that moment.

"Ka...tara?" he mumbled, wincing at the rasp he could feel in his throat.

Instantly, she was by his side, pressing him back down even as he tried to struggle upright. "Shh," she cautioned. "Save your strength, and try not to talk too much. You've been through a lot."

"You really found me?"

"I did."

"Thought I dreamed that."

Although he could see worry in her eyes, she made an effort to smile. "No, we found you. And you're lucky, too. If you'd been out there much longer, you might have frozen to death. As it was, you were feverish for a few hours. You had us all worried."

"Were _you_ worried?" he asked.

Were he thinking a little more clearly, he might have been more cautious, but all he was really aware of was her warm hand that still rested on his shoulder and the soft numbing of sensation in his limbs that let him know he'd been dosed with one of Anyu's healing teas.

Katara let out a soft snort. "Of course I was worried," she said. "You come stumbling in with burns on your neck and frostbite everywhere? What did you expect, Kivi?"

Kiviuq smiled drowsily. "You... called me Kivi. Y'haven't called me that since we were children."

"I think you're delirious," she replied. "I call you that all the time."

With her free hand, she reached up and checked his forehead. "You feel a little warm," she informed him. "I don't think your fever's quite gone yet.

The sensation of her soft fingers caressing his numbed skin was a pleasant one. Kiviuq felt himself drifting back towards unconsciousness, but this time a pleasant sleep rather than a pain-induced faint. On impulse, he grabbed her hand and brought it down to cradle his face, turning his head and pressing a soft kiss into her palm.

"'M gonna marry you, K'tara," he mumbled.

He was vaguely aware of her hands pulling away, and he moaned softly, wishing she would come back.

"Lie still. Sokka's been waiting to talk to you," she informed him. "I'm... I'm just gonna go tell him you're awake."

Kiviuq nodded unhappily, and fell back into a hazy slumber.

* * *

The shortening days meant that it was nearly nightfall by the time Kiviuq regained consciousness a second time, and Sokka insisted on speaking to him alone.

Many members of the village waited with more than a little apprehension to find out what had happened to the young warrior from their neighboring village. Katara was among them, while Aang stood at the back of the crowd with Appa, uncertain of his place among these people but nonetheless as curious as the rest of them.

Some twenty minutes after entering the little anorak where Kiviuq lay, Sokka emerged with stormy countenance.

"What happened? What did Kivi tell you?" Gran-Gran asked

"Late last night," Sokka said gravely, "Kiviuq's village was attacked by Fire Nation soldiers. They were led by a young commander with a facial scar. They dragged the women and children from their homes and gathered them in the center of the village. Kiviuq tried to defend his people, but we all know how hard it is to fight a firebender singlehandedly."

Gasps of horror and sympathy arose from the villagers.

"Kiviuq was able to escape, and walked through the night despite his injuries to warn us of the danger. He said that the leader of these monsters said some very strange things." Sokka paused for a minute, then said, very deliberately: "He demanded that an airbender be handed over to him."

At this, several heads turned to Aang, who was staring at Sokka in stricken surprise. Many had witnessed his display of flight that morning, and those who hadn't seen him firsthand had been informed of it by Katara who, despite her worry over Kiviuq's safety, had found time enough to spread the news that an airbender was in their midst.

Sokka continued, "Kiviuq believes that this commander is delusional, searching for someone who cannot possibly exist. Unfortunately, we know better."

Murmurs raced through the crowd and Aang, nervous, stepped a little closer toward Appa's reassuring mass.

The young warrior sighed, his stony expression slipping a little into something that might possibly have been remorse. "Aang, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave."

" _What?_ " It was Katara's voice that cried out. She pushed past a pair of older women to face her brother, standing between him and Aang. "You're going to banish him, just like that? For something that's not even his fault?"

"I am protecting our village," Sokka said, not backing down an inch.

"You can't just do that!" she protested. "Aang has done nothing wrong! The whole time he's been here he's been helpful and respectful, and I've never seen the little ones so happy and carefree in all their lives than when he was playing with them yesterday!"

Sokka's shoulders slumped. "I'm not saying he's a bad person," he said, sounding tired. "But-"

"But we cannot risk the safety of our entire village to protect a near stranger, no matter how much we may like him," Gran-Gran interjected, filling in where Sokka left off.

Katara seemed close to tears as she faced her grandmother. "Not you, too, Gran-Gran!" she cried.

"Katara, I'm sorry, but I believe your brother is right in this."

It was at that moment that Aang finally spoke up. "It's alright, Katara," he assured her.

She spun around to face him. " _No_ it's _not!_ " she exclaimed. "They can't just treat you like this! Where will you go?"

He gave her a sad little smile. "I guess I'll go home. Or maybe I'll go to the North Pole after all. I don't know."

Tears really did well up in Katara's eyes at that. "Then... then..." She took a deep breath, struggling with herself. Then her head rose and in that moment, her blue eyes glittering with the tears she unashamedly shed and her expression fierce, she resembled a warrior queen far more than the angry teenage girl she was. Facing Aang across the crowd, she shouted, "Then I'm going with you!"

Gasps went up from everyone present as she ran to his side.

"Katara!" Sokka called in a strangled voice.

"Come on, Aang," she said, pointedly ignoring her brother.

Aang stared at her in shock. "Katara..." he said softly, moved beyond words at the power and sincerity of her gesture.

Gran-Gran called out, then. "Katara, my girl, please don't go!"

At the sound of her grandmother's voice, she hesitated. It was only for a moment, but Aang saw the tiniest flash of uncertainty cross her features.

"I can't let you do this," he told her, stepping between her and Appa and blocking her path to the sky bison's saddle. "I can't let you give up your tribe... your whole life! Not just for me."

She wavered. "But... didn't you say I was meant for something more?"

"Yes."

"What if this is it?" she whispered. "What if I'm meant to go with you? What if this is my something more?"

He shook his head. "This feels wrong. Forcing you to choose between me and your family can't be the right thing to do, Katara."

She wiped at the tear tracks that had earlier run down her cheeks in her anger, but the acceptance of what he was saying was written all over her face. Abruptly, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I know we haven't known each other long, but I'm really going to miss you," she whispered in his ear.

"I'll miss you, too," he replied.

After a long moment, Katara released him. "I'm sorry they're banishing you like this. It's not right."

"I'll be fine," he promised. "I'm tougher than I look."

With a graceful display of airbending that drew gasps from the watching villagers, he spun through the air to land on Appa's head. Aang gave a quick flick of Appa's reins, and the great animal turned ponderously. Boy and bison trudged away to the west, heading across the ice as if chasing the swiftly-setting sun.

Katara turned away and walked back to join her family. She kept her head down, but even if she had not, none of the other villagers would have met her eyes. Although she stood beside her grandmother, she did not turn around and she did not raise her eyes, refusing to watch her new friend leave.

Old Komi One-Leg, who stood nearest Hakoda's children, leaned over to them. He whispered in Sokka's ear, "I think you may have made a grave mistake, young'un."

Sokka set his jaw, and did not look away, watching Aang until the dying light hid him from view.

* * *

In truth, Aang did not go very far before stopping.

As he had told Katara, he was tougher than he looked, but that didn't mean he had any real inclination to hike miles across frozen tundra after nightfall. Therefore, once the last of the sun's light had disappeared from the horizon and he was left with only the brightness of the stars and a crescent moon to guide him, he started looking for a place to bed down for the night. Eventually, he took refuge in one of the little caves carved into the ice cliffs by wind and water erosion. It was small, just big enough to house himself. He curled up there with Appa huddled just beneath him, and stared back the way he had come. He could just make out the shapes of anoraks and igloos that marked the village.

His head was awhirl with everything that had happened that day. For most of the day he had successfully distracted himself with other thoughts, but left on his own, he could no longer avoid thinking about it.

He had been trapped for a hundred years in an iceberg. A whole century had passed while he had slept peacefully beneath the sea. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that, but the side effects had not escaped him. It had occurred to him more than once over the course of the day that his long hibernation meant that everyone he ever knew was dead or very, very old by now. He was not at all prepared to think too hard about that, and all day, he had successfully kept the idea at bay by demonstrating complex airbending moves for Katara and the little children of the village.

What Katara had told him about the other Air Nomads troubled him deeply. He certainly didn't believe his people were extinct, as Sokka seemed to think, but he was nonetheless concerned. They would almost certainly have retreated to the safety of the Temples, which would more than explain why no one had seen them for so long, but how would his peaceable people have been affected by a century of war?

War. With the Fire Nation. How had _that_ happened? He knew the monks had been concerned about some kind of threat to the world; that was why they had told him his identity so young, after all. Was it possible that the Fire Nation's attack on the other nations was what they had been worrying about?

Aang sighed. It was just too much to take in all at once. He had messed up, badly, and he knew it.

But there was one upside. As selfish as it was, he was glad that all this had happened, because he had gotten to meet Katara.

The novice waterbender fascinated him. He'd only known her for a few days, but he already felt as though they'd been friends forever. Aang had always been one to make friends quickly, but this was something different. He _liked_ her.

Aang had never been interested in girls, as such. He'd had female friends from all four nations, but they had been _friends_. Even once he'd started to grow up, he'd just never had the same reaction to girls as some of his friends. He had found the whole routine silly, actually, as he watched his friends start to trip all over themselves when a pretty girl crossed their paths. It had been Aang's intention, until he found out he was the Avatar and was informed in no uncertain terms that such a choice was denied to him, to become a dedicate of the Temple and live a celibate, purely spiritual life. He just wasn't interested in girls the way his other friends were, and that disinterest combined with his deep-seated spirituality had made it an easy choice (at least until he was denied even the option, that was).

And then Katara had come crashing into his life (or maybe _he_ had crashed into _hers_ ) and he was beginning to understand what all the fuss was about. She was funny and interesting and pretty, and despite himself, he was captivated. There was something in her that was strong and bright that drew him in.

Well, too late now, he supposed. He had been summarily banished by her brother. He wasn't sure what he'd done to make Sokka distrust him so much, but he held no ill-will against the older boy for sending him away. Sokka had just been doing the only thing he could think of to protect his people, and Aang could understand that. He still couldn't believe Katara's impassioned defense of himself, though...

Suddenly, the dark landscape was lit up by a blinding flash of fire.

Aang sat upright, startled by the light, eyes straining to make out the source.

He didn't have to wait long. From the direction of the village, another flare shot upward. It took Aang a moment to process what he was seeing, but eventually he realized the village was under attack. Apparently Sokka's attempt to ward off a Fire Nation attack by sending him away had not been successful.

This was his fault. For whatever reason (and Aang didn't have to think too hard to guess what that reason might be), the Fire Nation wanted him found. The village was being invaded because of him. He had to help.

"Appa, you stay here!" Aang commanded, leaping down from his ice cave and seizing his glider from Appa's saddle as he dropped past.

The instant his feet touched the ground, he took off. Sprinting at speeds only achievable by an airbender, he streaked over the frozen ground, sending up a flurry of snowflakes in his wake as he made a beeline for the village he had just left behind...


End file.
